Half of My Heart
by someonearfwillneverfind
Summary: In their Third year, Granger had the gall to smack Malfoy across the face. Since then, he found it very hard to get that memory out of his head. His plan for revenge goes wrong when he finds himself falling for her instead. As IC as possible!
1. Chapter 1

Hi! I have exams going on, but all I really want to do right now is write the most exquisitely executed, cutest but more-or-less in character Dramione I can offer. Bear with the slow updates, and I promise I ll try my best to make this good!

I'm sure JoRowling's done with all her exams, so I'm not her. Hence, sadly, I own nothing you recognize. I may have claim on things you don't recognize, or you're just ignorant. :P

xoxo Selzilla

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><p><em>"Look at him blubber! Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"<em>

_Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first - SMACK!_

_She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again._

_"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back._

_"Get off, Ron!"_

_Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered._

_"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons._

**_- Prisoner of Azkaban, Chapter 15 (The Quidditch Final)_**

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><p>Hermione was exhilarated. Finally she had broken free of the social stigma, the stereotypes that surrounded her. It was a bold, spontaneous move and the best part was: she didn t even regret it. The built up frustration, the years of dealing with his torture had bubbled inside her until she finally burst. Ron was probably right, she cracked. However, telling Ron that was out of the option. <em>"You know what, Hermione? I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."<em> She could only imagine the things he would spew if she told him. Sure his babbling was endearing, still, she'd like to avoid it if she could. For now, she would just revel in the joy that Ron actually knew her well enough to know that she _cracked _under pressure - he understood her, even. The shocked look Ron wore made it all worth it, his expressions priceless. It even beat watching Draco Malfoy cowering. For once, Ronald Bilius Weasley was impressed with something she did that was not studies related. It was something that proved that she too was capable of spontaneity and guts. That she did not always have to only be the smart one. That she was fully capable of being part of the excitement and fun of their adventures. That she was not a buzz kill, she was not always responsible or quiet. That she wasn t one to just tolerate the persecution handed to her without complaint.

Hermione thought about Malfoy. There was a small, tiny, typical Hermione part of her that felt guilty. She tried to repress it as best as she could, but she felt she should apologize. Sure Draco Malfoy was a jerk, but she didn t need to be one. She was supposed to be above all this childishness. She was not supposed to have a sudden violent streak. As a child, she was always fascinated by Gandhi and a small part of her tried to embody his philosophies. Gandhi would never slap a boy because he insulted her friends. Instead, he would probably provide more ammunition against his friend until the insulter got freaked out and left. At least, he believed in offering his right cheek after being slapped on the left. Now Hermione wasn t saying she was going to let Malfoy slap her back. She wasn t _that_ ridiculous, but she felt that it was wrong of her to approach things from an aggressive angle. Basically, she felt the need to apologize. She thought of ways to do it. Write him a letter? He'd probably make copies and send it around the school. Maybe make alterations to insult her. Perhaps go up to him after breakfast? No, Ron and Harry would skin her alive. Ron - he would be so disappointed to hear her think this way. No, actually, he d expect it. That s what they all expected of Hermione Granger: she was the good girl. She was the brightest witch of their year. She was the one who knew all the rules and tried to follow them to the dot. She was the one who kept bringing up random Hogwarts: A History facts for fun. She was the nerd, the geek, the buzz kill.

No. The niggling part of her that wanted to apologize had to be ignored. She would pretend it was only a small fraction, no matter how large it really was. She would have to pay no heed to the fact that her guilt rose and pride diminished by the minute. She was supposed to enjoy her impulsiveness. Bask in the adrenaline rush of it all. Except the adrenaline was fast running out, and badass Hermione was losing the war against the normal Hermione. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that Draco deserved it (and she knew he did), she couldn t bring herself to think that anyone deserved to be treated with violence - except maybe You-Know-Who but he was different. Malfoy was just an annoying prat, not an evil Dark Lord. Surely no matter how much of a git he was, he deserved an apology? She shook her head, hoping the idea would escape her mind. She needed to concentrate on Ron.

She always thought she was smart. How Hermione Granger fell in love with her best friend, she didn t know. However, she did know that all of a sudden, impressing Ron was more important that what Gandhi thought of her. She would have to forget all about apologizing to Draco. He wouldn t accept it in any case. He would sneer at her, possibly call her names. He would say something about Ron, and she would probably lose it again. Then her apology would appear fake and insincere and the whole thing would just lead to disaster. As opposed to letting it go, letting Ron stay impressed by her bravery and finally coming close to the fairy tale she deserves. Hagrid would be happy too, knowing that Hermione had his back if he ever needed it. Harry was very pleased too. She had risen in everyone s eyes, and the next day when the news spread, people would look at her in a new light. She wasn t sure why it felt so important to have people s approval, but right then it felt like it mattered. Part of her felt a little shallow, but she pushed it away. She was doing the right thing. Malfoy deserved it, Malfoy deserved it, Malfoy deserved it, Malfoy deserved it...

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><p>Draco sat in his corner in the common room. He had modified the chair to give it a throne-like appearance. Generally, he enjoyed the air of superiority he held among his fellow Slytherins. Right then, however, he wished the chair would melt into the background because he didn t want anyone to notice him. His face was still slightly flushed at the point of impact. It stood out boldly against his pale skin and light hair. It looked like it was going to bruise, so he applied some Murtlap essence on it. Even through a layer of translucent green, the crimson imprint of Granger's hand was visible. The fear of pain and of being seen (though he liked to pretend there was never any) had long dissipated, replaced by fury. Every contour of Draco s face was distorted into a snarl, as he plotted revenge on Hermione Granger. The stupid <em>Mudblood<em> dared humiliate him like that? Surely, Potter and Weasley were spreading the tale to whoever was willing to listen. They were probably exaggerating the story to please their eager listeners. They probably painted Draco as a coward, instead of illustrating his gentlemanly behavior. It took all of Draco s strength to resist the urge to hex her when she made contact. Still, he knew better than to attack a girl. He refused to sink to their despicable level just because Granger incited in him a rage that no one had been able to tap into. He thought of what he said to make her hit him something regarding that half-wit oaf, Hagrid, if memory served. It was a deserving comment, he was sure. A smirk appeared, though short lived, when he remembered. The man was almost 8 feet in height and was bawling like a child whose parents refused to buy him a vintage broomstick for his fourth birthday. Pathetic was an understatement.

Sinking in his seat, Draco ran a hand through his hair in dire frustration. What was he going to tell the Slytherins? There was absolutely nothing he could do to stop the gossip and rumours that would escape the Gryffindor common room. Everyone in Hogwarts would love to gain a little ammo against the great Draco Malfoy, those jealous pricks. He didn t much care what the rest of the houses thought but he had a reputation to hold up in Slytherin. Admitting he got slapped by a Gryffindor? That was unbelievable. A Gryffindor girl? Infinitely embarrassing. _The_ Gryffindor golden girl, Ms Mudblood Granger? Absolutely outrageous. He would have to figure out something to tell them. Telling them he was being gentlemanly when he refused to hex her when he had the chance wasn t going to earn back any lost respect.

He thought and discarded many ideas. Finally, it was decided Draco would tell the others he was confounded. It was three against one because, honestly, Crabbe and Goyle were never much help. Potter disarmed him and Weasley used Confundus on him simultaneously. Then Granger did her thing. Of course she s very proud to have to little spineless gits obeying her every command. For Gryffindors, they weren t very brave - always attacking in groups, never one-on-one.

When he realized it was a terrible plan, rage flared through him again. Who was Granger to do this to him? It took him a while to calm down, but his eyes were glinting with wrath. He decided that he would have his revenge. He would take his own time, but he would avenge himself. That was a promise. Hermione Granger should watch herself, there was predator in town and he was looking to eliminate her. There s danger in store for Granger...

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><p>So do you like it? Like I said, it'll be as in character as possible. So, you shall have to wait a bit before you get to any cutesy scenes. Bear with and I promise it'll be alright. Not really very compliant to all the books, but they're there.<p>

Also, noticed any AVPM references? :P I put in a few. Love you guys! Review! :D


	2. Chapter 2

_I just gave my last ever Language exam. After today, writing in my mother tongue will only happen when I feel like it. No one, and I mean no one, can force me to write that against my will any more. If I want I'll write in it every day, if I don't want – I freaking don't need to. And no more dreaded Language classes! HAH. Life can be good at times. :)_

_Excuse the rant, I'm just excited. Of course, not as excited as I was when I saw that not a day since I uploaded my story I got reviews! So, this goes out to poisoned blood, CentrIfficus, Mistress Moriarty, Brittany di Angelo and my first ever reviewer (on this story): **eoz16**! I love you all. You made my day. SO, here's the second chapter – out much earlier than I expected out of sheer love for you guys! :)_

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><p>For the next couple of weeks, Draco did not leave the common room for anything save his lessons. Nobody really noticed his absence, or was grateful for it. Even the Quidditch team seemed to continue to practice when he wasn't there. The captain gave him a few ultimatums and that was it. Draco wasn't bothered. He bought his way into the team once, he would surely be able to do it a second time. Instead he remained in solitude during the entire period, brooding in his throne or dormitory – planning revenge on Hermione Granger.<p>

Unfortunately, he wasn't progressing very far in the planning forte. Draco sat alone for hours, pouring over books, learning new spells and trying to find the best way to get back at Granger. He idled around with silly ones like filling a balloon with mulch, levitating it over her head and letting it drop. Preferably in front of the Potions dungeons so that he wouldn't get into trouble. Surely Snape – excuse me, _Professor _Snape – would find some ingenious method to fish him out. Or perhaps give him 'detention' by inviting him to his office and they could enjoy wizard chess. Ever since Draco beat him in first year, Snape felt compelled to keep playing him till he won. Draco considered letting him win, but Snape had placed spells to prevent that. Plus, his own ego would not be able to tolerate Snape's gloating if he did.

Another plan was to steal her clothes while she was in the shower and make her run naked through the halls. It would be punishment for her and all the girls and boys she crosses – because honestly, seeing her naked was definitely not a treat. However, of course the plenty of flaws including figuring out how to sneak into the girl's bathrooms and stealing her clothes without attracting attention. And everyone knew Draco Malfoy was too attractive to not catch everyone's eyes.

Draco stood up and walked to the mirror. His features had not changed much since he hit puberty. He was expecting drastic improvements in his physical appearance, but sadly there were none. His face altogether was a little less pointy and more chiselled, but that was about it. He played around with this platinum hair for a while – gelling it back like he used to, bringing some hair to the front to act like bangs and a variety more. Finally, he smoothed it back like old times and flexed his muscles (or lack thereof) instead. When he first came to Hogwarts, he was skin and bones. He could hear people calling him scrawny behind his back, never having the courage to say it to his face. He frowned. Playing Quidditch had certainly done some good. He was still as skinny as ever, even anorexic to a point, but the Quidditch helped tone whatever muscle he had. It was shapelier and very nearly becoming hard. He flexed his arm and poked the little bulge. Unlike his first two years where the finger sunk into the underlying layer of fat, this time it sank only a short distance before he was met by what he could only describe as pulsing, hot raw biceps. Others would just call it meat and bones.

He turned to his face again. He turned in different angles and observed his nose. Draco appeared to be pleased with what he saw. His mother always said he had an aristocratic nose – sharp, but not too sharp. Then he fluttered his eyes, and tried to stare as seductively as he could through the smoky blonge haze of his eyelashes. The blonde and the silver of his eyes seemed to work together in an exquisite blend. He opened his eyes again, and stared intently at himself, trying to focus on his irises. He read in books that eyes can swirl and he dearly wished that his would too. However, being unsure what it meant, he couldn't judge. So he just assumed it did. Finally stepping back to take in a full view, he smirked and returned to his seat.

His plans were too juvenile, or too crude. Draco refused to carry out juvenile plans. He was at an age where he had to act mature. He was Draco Malfoy, not some stupid snot-nosed twelve-year- old. He had to come up with a plan that displayed his class and his ingenious and his maturity. He was Draco Malfoy, so his plan needed to ooze out class and sophistication. He wasn't going to do something lewd or crass. He had his twisted set of morals, and he took pride in abiding by them. Mudblood or not, she was a girl. He was going to have to treat her with a little respect, no matter how much it sickened him. He wasn't going to execute this until he had the perfect plan in mind. A plan that was not ungentlemanly, that was mature. He would spend all of Third Year plotting this but would not rest until he had publicly humiliated her. He could not make peace with himself until he got his revenge on Hermione Granger.

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><p>"Malfoy. Don't leave your seat for another week, okay? I've nearly secured your Seeker's position."<p>

Draco looked up to see Blaise Zabini smirking at him. This relationship with Zabini was complicated. It could be said that Blaise was the only friend Draco really had. However, they were always at each other's throat, competing and throwing cutting remarks at each other. Sometimes these were harmless jabs, other times it went on to insult family. Despite it, Draco knew that he could count on Blaise to back him up in times of serious trouble. He would probably give him hell later, but in Draco's moment of need Blaise would be there.

"Sod off, Zabini. I haven't got time for you. And in case you didn't know, that broom you fly around in is a gift from my father. So if you want to _have _a broom you'll keep your filthy paws off my position."

"Touchy, are we today? Please, Malfoy. I could buy a better broom if I wanted. Our family's got older, purer blood than yours."

"Yeah, pure blood. With that mother of yours sleeping with every man she sees. Within a few days she'll make advances on me – Oh. That's what you meant by buy a better broom."

"Shut up. You're getting worse at this. If you keep hitting me with the same lines, I'll get bored. You don't want me to find a new play mate now, would you?"

Malfoy said nothing. Blaise smirked. Whoever was the first to get that line out usually won. Neither openly admitted it, but they both feared losing each other. Having nothing real to call a family, each other was the closest thing they had. They grew up together, Malfoy and Zabini were nearly brothers.

"Yeah. Always afraid to watch me walk away. Why is that, Malfoy? Got a little crush, have you?"

Malfoy snarled at him. Blaise just smirked again. "Oh, Malfoy. Your cheek is becoming red again. Granger hit you again?" Then he walked off.

Yes. Draco Malfoy had to take revenge on Granger, or he'd be the punch line – or rather slap line – of every joke.

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><p>Hermione Granger found herself thinking about Draco Malfoy a couple of times. Her guilt was gnawing inside her, as if it was a building a tunnel to escape. The rush of slapping Malfoy had long worn off, and now with even the attention she was receiving gone she felt terrible. There were several things working on her at once. First there was the initial guilt of slapping him. She still couldn't believe she had done it. Then she felt guilty for not apologizing straight away – not only that, but she felt guilty that the reason she didn't apologize immediately was that she wanted approval and attention. Just the thought of it made her sick. Finally, there was the fact that Malfoy had been missing from every meal time for about a week now, and she had a sick feeling inside her that she was the cause.<p>

The boys initially didn't even notice. Harry realized when Wood told him over practice that Malfoy hadn't attended some meetings. Hermione decided it was a safe time to say she noticed he wasn't at the Great Hall ever either. Ron snorted when he heard this, and said that he hoped her slap made him curl up and die somewhere. She smiled a little at this, while Harry agreed wholeheartedly. However, a frown worked its way to her face. When the boys (Harry) finally noticed, he asked her what was wrong. Ron turned, bewildered. "Wrong?" He saw her expression and grew worried. "You okay, 'Mione?"

When Ron finally asked, she couldn't help herself. She began pouring everything out. Her best friends listened in silence, occasionally exchanging looks. As she told them, there were a few teardrops rolling down her face. Finally, she burst into sobs and buried her face into her hands. The boys remained silent, watching her. After some time, she recomposed herself and attempted to smile. "It's silly, I know. Apologizing to Malfoy, what an outrageous idea! The boy has been a perfect git to me all his life, and the one time I do something gutsy, guilt eats at me like a hungry hippogriff."

Harry sighed and smiled warmly at her. "No, Hermione. It's okay. In our first year, it wasn't until Quirrell was completely threatening my life that I tried to do something. Even after all that, I felt slightly bad for what I did. Feeling guilty is good, it means you aren't like them. You don't enjoy being a downright prat. But like you said, Malfoy deserved it – just like Quirrell did. Plus, you didn't even do anything all that bad. You didn't hex him like I know you could have or hurt him in any awful way. All you did to him was a harmless slap. It hurts the ego more than the face, and Malfoy deserves a bruise to the ego. As for his sulking, like I said, a little bruise to the ego is healthy for him. He'll get over it soon."

Reassured by his words, she smiled at Harry and then, instinctively, at Ron. He looked a bit awkward, but smiled back. "Cheer up, 'Mione. You won't be regretting it for too long. Malfoy will be back to his old self soon enough and you'll be itching to replay the incident if anything!"

Hearing Ron trying to cheer her up was all the assurance she needed. She grinned and said, "You guys are right! I shouldn't worry myself over it. Thanks you two!" She scooted over and gave Harry a one-handed hug. Impulsively she went over to Ron and nearly hugged him too. Realizing what she was doing she began to blush, and to her amazement so did he. This only made blush more. She quickly put an arm around him and withdrew it even faster, so Harry wouldn't suspect anything out of the ordinary.

Still coloured a flaming red, Hermione got up and began walking out.

"Wait, Hermione. Where are you going?"

"Library!" She called out behind her and left at full speed. If she had chanced a look at Ron like she longed to, she would see him sitting there still blushing - looking slightly disoriented.

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><p>At the library she finally relaxed. She pulled out an assortment of books from the shelves and seated herself in a distant corner. For once she did not intend on reading them (not <em>just <em>then, anyway!). Nor had she brought them down for homework reference. No, it was meant to hide her. For what she did then was something one would expect of Lavender Brown or Parvati Patil - but though not as silly, Hermione was also only just a thirteen year old girl. She, from behind the cover of her book-pile, then pulled out an old parchment and began to doodle hearts. Her mind was in a daze and she dared not believe it. She was sure she was dreaming. She had just hugged Ronald Weasley – her best friend and new crush. And just as she was about to hug him, he started to blush too. This year was going to be totally awesome!

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><p><em>There you go guys! It's complete!<em>

_I know a lot of you may be upset with Draco's description. I know he's supposed to be an mouthwatering beauty with chiselled pecs and all that, but like I said this is in character and Ms Rowling made Draco pointy and skinny. Also, I know Hermione's in love with Ron right now. Again it's all to do with the in character ness. The Dramione will come, be patient my cubs._

_Don't forget to review! _

_Selzilla xoxo_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n:** I have an exam tomorrow, and instead of practicing I've spent my day watching _A Very Potter Sequeal _(have I insisted that you just must, must, _must _watch A Very Potter Musical and A Very Potter Sequeal by Starkid Potter, available on Youtube, along with the rest of their plays? Because well, you _HAVE _to! Trust me, once you get the little bits I'm sneaking into the story, it'll appear a little more amusing.) and writing this.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own Harry Potter or A Very Potter Musical/Sequeal (though I advertise it shamelessly).

Oh! I know how to get you to watch. Any of you watch Glee? Well, it's got Blaine (Darren Criss) in it! Yes, Kurt's HOT boyfriend. Starkid is _his _own theatre group with a couple of friends. Watch it, I promise you'll love it. 3

**Eoz16**: I forgot to reply before, I _do _have Twitter, but I haven't used it in the longest time. I don't even remember the password, really. Sorry.

**FBFan**: Haha, thank you. I'm glad you liked the name, and the story too! :D

Annnnnnnd, much love to **poisoned blood**, a recurring reviewer! 3

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><p>Draco returned to his normal routine after another week of hiding. He had missed an important Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, where Zabini filled in for him just as he had hoped. However, having lost brutally, the team welcomed Malfoy back warmly. Draco was particularly rough to Blaise as payback for his taunts throughout the period he was being reclusive. Despite that, Draco had this gnawing feeling that Blaise had lost deliberately to get the players to beg Malfoy to return to the team. He had played against Blaise a great number of times, and if he had to admit that there was an inkling of a possibility of there being a seeker whose skills were superior to his: he would believe that it was Zabini. In fact, it was Blaise who was initially chosen as seeker, but because Malfoy had bribed the Captain with brooms he got the part. Zabini didn't mind, he was just as spectacular as beater. It also gave him a chance to vent his pent up frustrations. When they were alone in the Common Room later day, Draco hinted his gratitude for taking the fall on his behalf. It was all disguised as probes and insults, but he knew there was a smile hidden behind Zabini's cocky smirk.<p>

Most people didn't notice Malfoy's absence and those who did were too afraid of him to enquire about it. Draco wasn't sure whether to be relieved or offended. He was relieved for obvious reasons, offended because they could forget such a scandalous story involving him so quickly. It was a mixture of both. The slap incident had blown over by then, people were more concerned about the Dementors or Sirius Black.

Even though the person stealing his limelight was a murderer, he couldn't help but feel oddly jealous of the attention the man received. What annoyed him most was that even the Golden Gryffindor Gang had appeared to have forgotten the humiliation they put him through. Even Hermione Granger had stopped acting awkward around him and didn't seem bothered by his presence. During his days in hiding, Draco had prepared the comebacks he would fling at Potter and his friends dared they open their mouths. Now, he was frustrated at not being able to use them. The only person who still insisted on bringing the matter up was Zabini whose day seemed incomplete without laughing at Malfoy for his "unmanliness".

"What's with the face, Malfoy? Is your girlfriend still ignoring you?"

His lack of, ahem, testosterone wasn't the only thing that Zabini teased him about. He found Draco's newfound obsession with humiliating Granger almost as amusing. Almost meaning he found the Granger-obsession thing funnier.

"You know Blaise, the way you've been attacking me all week and the one before that – I'd reckon you were jealous."

Zabini's smirk didn't falter. "Jealous?" He asked, sarcastically. "Of what? Your dwindling sperm count?"

"_You _have a thing for Granger."

"So you're saying I'm jealous that Granger's your girlfriend?"

"Precisely." He looked triumphant for a moment, then paused and grimaced. "No. Wait. NO. Blaise, you disgust me."

Zabini barked a laugh at him. "You know, I don't even know why I bother with you. You practically hand me everything on a silver platter – with complementary sides."

"You are absolutely sickening." Zabini looked as though he was about to say something when Draco cut him short. "Not. A. Word."

Okay, new topic then, Malfoy. Remember when you were all up everyone's arse about being the Slytherin Prince last year?"

Draco shot him a glare. "Everyone thought it was Potter. It was preposterous. Do you know even Crabbe and Goyle asked me about it? It's like they were deliberately questioning me to see if I thought it was really him. I told them it wasn't me -"

"- but that it sure as Azkaban wasn't Scarface. I know, Draco. You told me about it every few seconds. Then I told you that the two weren't even smart enough to properly butter toast (and they love eating!) So, they definitely wouldn't be subtle enough to try and pry things out of you. Stupid as you were (and still are), I told you to give yourself a little credit. Remember? We've had this discussion over a thousand times."

"Then why'd you bring it up?"

Blaise snickered and said, "Because it's funny."

Draco decided to grace the comment with no more than an elaborate roll of his grey eyes and turned to Zabini seriously. "Listen, I've got a series of antics planned for next week in my nefarious scheme to humiliate Granger – and don't any more of those stupid girlfriend jokes, it was never funny. Now, I will be needing help executing them. You game?"

Blaise inhaled. He knew Draco well enough to know that trying to dissuade him from his plans was an impossible task. So he tried the only way he knew to make him stop doing things – by means of teasing and taunting him to maim his gargantuan ego. Till Malfoy was five, he never separated from his pacifier. His mother tried bribing him with every toy imaginable, she scolded him and she locked him in the dungeons. Even Lucius Malfoy's threats to hex him had no impact. He loved his pacifier and nothing in the world would make him part from it. That was until Blaise walked in on him once, took one look at the pacifier in his mouth and burst out laughing. _You know Malfoy, _he had said, _I trew away __**my **__pasifee – pasifer – thing two years ago. Of course, you aren't as grown up as me, so it's okay. _The very next day, when Narcissa walked into baby Draco's room, she was astounded to find his pacifier discarded at one corner of the room while he sat in his crib with a book open, pretending to read. Ever since that day, Draco and Blaise were best friends and Blaise was the only one who could break him off a bad habit. Until now that is, when despite all of his struggles, Malfoy was hell-bent on avenging himself against Granger. No matter how much he mocked, taunted or teased, Malfoy refused to back down. Blaise wasn't a fool. He knew when to admit defeat – if can't beat 'em, join 'em.

He sighed. "If I say no, you'll just find some stupid way to goad or blackmail me into helping you, won't you?" Malfoy wore an obnoxiously triumphant look. He nodded, and Zabini just sighed again. "I don't know why you even bother to ask me." He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Whatever Malfoy had planned it wasn't going to be smart or pretty, and he would need his help to get through it. Last thing he needed was Malfoy locking himself up because he was humiliated yet again. "Yes. I'm game, Malfoy."

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><p>To his knowledge, whenever Malfoy tried to do anything to the trio - it backfired. When he enlarged Granger's teeth, she just went to the hospital wing and got it remedied. In fact, she shortened it to the extent that her overbite was gone. After that moment, he could no longer call her Beaver – a nickname he imagined was quite clever. The worst he did to Weasley was the slug-thing, and even in that he had nothing to with it except luck. He had never yet had any success hexing Potter either. Potter had never dueled with him one-on-one and had back up from Granger and Weasley at all times, so he was a tough opponent. And while he mocked Potter for not having the Gryffindor courage to face him alone, Draco wasn't ashamed to admit that he fought in the shadows of Crabbe and Goyle. Why get your hands dirty when you had someone to do your dirty work for you? That was the logic he always reasoned with. It was something his father taught him, back when they actually talked. Zabini sighed. Malfoy's relationship with his father seemed to deteriorate every day. These days Lucius treated Draco as he would treat a Mudblood, or something even worse. Even though it was never verbally stated, everyone knew that Draco's extreme obsession with bringing Potter down was in hopes of making amends with Lucius.<p>

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><p>Loath as he was to admit it, Blaise was very impressed with Malfoy's plan. It was humiliatingly cruel and cold hearted, and he reckoned there was a risk of expulsion if the prank was properly executed. They had thought it through perfectly, enlisted help from the upperclassmen and were anxiously awaiting the precise moment to strike. He was going to stand, hidden, behind the corner which turns into the Great Hall. He held in his hand a bucket, disillusioned. Malfoy would confront Granger as she and Potter returned from visiting Weasley in the hospital wing. (The trio got into a brawl with the Whomping Willow. It wasn't hard to guess who won. The red head took the worst hits, so while Potter and Granger were released in a few hours, Weasley was detained overnight.) Then, he would use a simple painting spell to appear to make slashes on her arms and face. He would never actually harm her, it defied his moral code. While Potter would be enraged thinking he actually cut his Mudblood girlfriend and Granger would be confused as to why she had cuts on her when she felt nothing, Blaise would levitate the bucket over Granger and spill its contents on her head. Malfoy would then smirk and say, "Oh, look. You truly are a Mudblood." Cue gloating exit and shock spiteful remarks from the audience as they rush to Granger's aid.<p>

The two had been prepared for a long time, but weren't sure if they wanted to go through with it. Initially Blaise tried to convince Draco not to, the stakes involved were far too high to risk over Granger. Getting expelled was not worth a lousy revenge over Granger. Plus, the whole incident had passed. It would be stupid to remind everyone of it again. There was a possibility that they failed to execute to perfection, it would then lead to double humiliation. More importantly, Blaise wasn't sure he was comfortable risking his own hide in the whole business. To be honest, he didn't care anymore about those Gryffindorks than he did about his impending Divination lesson. He didn't want anything to do with Granger and her cronies. It was pointless.

"But, Blaise –" Draco was almost literally whimpering.

Zabini looked freaked out. He shot Malfoy a weird look and drawled "Look Malfoy, I like you enough to tolerate you and your Avada'd up plans, but I'm not in love with you. So, you better quit moaning to me, 'cause I find it neither attractive nor endearing." He paused to think for a while. "Now if you were that Astoria Greengrass…"

"Blaise." That was all he said. Draco didn't even glare. Suddenly, Zabini realized how serious this was to him. He knew from before that this had a great deal to do with Draco's compulsive need to please his father, but just then he realized how much.

This was another reason Blaise and Draco got along so well. Blaise's mother had a reputation, and not the good kind. Somehow, she always seemed to find herself hopelessly in love with some rich old man. And somehow, that man always seemed to die an ominous death leaving all his gold in her name. As a result, by the time Blaise was born, she was well into husband number twelve – and Blaise never knew his father. So, he was one of the few people who understood why impressing Lucius was such a big deal to Draco. He sucked in a breath.

"No reply yet?"

"Howler."

"Fine, we'll do it next week. Outside the Great Hall."

"And you say you're not in love with me. You're absolutely dotty for me."

"Shut it, Malfoy, before I decide not to."

Malfoy just smirked but he said nothing more.

* * *

><p>Not a single word was said among the two friends since their last exchange. They both silently prepared for their separate parts, not even looking at each other if there was no need for it. Blaise's duty was to collect the mud, find a way to disillusion it so that no questions were asked and pour it over Granger when Draco signaled. In the meantime, Malfoy was hard at work practicing painting. He would also have to whisper the spell, because if Granger heard, she'd know for sure it was nothing serious. He also had to leaf through his spell book to find that deflection charm they learnt in second year in their sorry attempt at dueling. There was a very high possibility Potter would not take kindly to her friend being sliced. There was also the chance that he would try to disarm his opponent as soon as he noticed Malfoy raise his wand. In both cases, he would need to protect himself, if he wanted to go through with the plan. Despite the lengths of their effort, they did not strike for a long time. When Weasley went into the Hospital Wing and the Golden Trio was one man down, they knew it was their moment.<p>

The third lesson would be dismissed in a matter of minutes. Professor Binns did not notice the two boys leave their seats and not return even after the class ended. It was dubious he knew even one student in school now. He kept calling them by names of previous students, and if one was so lucky, he'd get it right by chance. The students got a fifteen minute break after third lessons, so that they could return to class with a fresh mind. The Slytherins knew Potter and Granger would visit Weasley then, so they took position and waited. – And they waited.

Now Malfoy wasn't sure what happened since then, but neither of the two were present in any of the later classes. Word had spread that they were in Dumbledore's office the entire time, no one knew for what. All Malfoy knew for certain was that his plan had just fallen through. It was nearly the end of the year, and since Weasley had been released later the following day he would not be able to carry through ever. The remainder of the year sailed on smoothly, with little to complain about. Yet, he could not get the failure of his plan out of his head. Even though no one except Zabini knew, and even he kept quiet about it, he felt humiliated. He vowed that next year he would have his revenge on Granger.

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><p>Well was it okay? xD I know the end is a bit rushed, but I just really wanted to get this posted. Read, review and tell me what you thought! Next chapter: Fourth Year!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: You'd think I'd write more seeing how my exams are over. Many apologies for the lateness, school's over for me. Sorta. People studying under the British Curriculum will get it – My O Levels are over! So, I've been slightly busy partying. Forgive me, if you can find the heart.

**poisoned blood:** Thanks so much for being a dedicated reader, I love getting reviews from you. You're always so supportive. Thanks. xD

**Wise Old Rabbit: **Soon, but not quite yet. I'm trying to make this In-Character, so it'll take a while. Sometime in fourth year, though. So, it's slowly on its way! :D

Love to **Britney101, LookingforNirvana, flamelm, sparky 753, 4SnowWolf **and** foreverthename – **for reviews, favourites and alerts.

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><p>Ever since the incident at the Shrieking Shack, Harry felt distant. Hermione realized it must've been very hard for him to experience all that, she herself felt traumatized, so she could only begin to imagine how he felt. Yet, she hoped he would at least talk to her, or Ron. Harry had a knack for doing this, distancing himself from them once the ordeal was over. Then suddenly, unable to bear it, he would crack. He would scream, yell and become utterly frustrated. She wished it didn't have to come to that point. She wished he would just forthright tell them what he was going through. They were his friends, she and Ron. It was their duty to help him through his difficult moments, but it was near impossible when he hid from them. It scared them, to be honest, but they didn't have to courage to say anything to him. They remained silently supportive.<p>

Hermione herself wasn't sure what to make of the situation. She read the Daily Prophet religiously, and had a considerable amount of trust in it. It seemed to think Sirius Black was the perpetrator of the all the murders which took place after Harry's parents died. Books, which she never ever imagined could ever be wrong, often used Sirius Black as a personification or example of something unspeakably evil, or traitorous. He was always portrayed as V – You-Know-Who's henchman. Even Dumbledore didn't trust him until recently. It made her incredibly suspicious, and she worried about Harry – but who was she to question teachers. Then there was Ron's rat, Scabbers, the reason they fought so often this year. He was really an animagus. Peter Pettigrew, that awful rat of a man. How someone could live like that for thirteen years, such a coward. Living as a rat, knowing his friend was rotting in prison because of him, knowing that he betrayed his friends to the most evil man known to the world, and knowing it was his fault Harry's parents were dead – and feeling no remorse. She couldn't imagine a life like that. A life where living proof of his guilt and sins walked in front of him, and he just stayed mum, hiding in the shadows. Finally, begging for forgiveness, thirteen years late to all those who he had wronged only so that he could save his own hide. It was revolting.

It was a warm afternoon, and Hermione was quietly packing her trunk. She was just about to shrink the cauldrons to fit her already full trunk when she noticed a book in one of them. She picked it up and skimmed over the blurb. It was written by a best-selling witch – it was book from the wizard world.

Up until this year, Hermione never had a chance to shop in the magical world for things that suited her tastes. Time in Diagon Alley was usually spent hurriedly waiting for shipments of schoolbooks to arrive, running to Madam Malkin's or catching up with Ron and Harry. She hardly ever got to buy anything that she particularly wanted. The only exception was Crookshanks, and she only got him because they went in to get Scabbers – she grimaced and corrected herself, _Peter Pettigrew_ – checked. She had never spent those two or three hours curled up in Flourish and Blotts acquainting herself with magical authors, as she so longed to do. Her time at the library was usually with textbooks or reading the Daily Prophet. She had hoped that trips to Hogsmeade would change the situation, but with Dementors swooping around and all that Sirius Black fiasco, she hardly had time to visit the sole bookshop there. The fact that the author whose work she was most familiar with was Gilderoy Lockhart was proof of how little she knew about this sector of the magical society. Obviously, this book wasn't hers.

Hermione flipped it over in her hands a few times and reluctantly set the book on her bed. They would be heading home tomorrow, so she needed to put up quick fliers reading 'Book Found' if she was to return it to its rightful owner. Before she could, of course, she needed to finish packing first.

* * *

><p>"Hermione?"<p>

Hermione woke up with a start and looked around.

"Calm down, Mione. It's only us, Harry and Ron. You fell asleep in the library, that's where you are right now."

She shut her eyes and opened them in rapid succession to help focus. "What time is it?"

"It's time for lunch. When you didn't turn up, we checked the Common Room and then came here. Found you asleep. Since you skipped breakfast to pack, we decided to wake you. You haven't eaten a bite all day. Come on." Even in her sleepy state, she felt a blush creep up her face. Ron worried about her. "C'mon, let's go. I'm in the mood for some chocolate gateau."

She looked over the table, and stopped mid-stride. "Oh! The book!" She picked it up and showed it to Harry and Ron. "Is this either of yours? I found it in one of my Potions cauldrons. I thought I might have accidently brought it in from the library, but it isn't the school's. The name's smudged, and I don't know any effective spells to find whose it is."

Ron just shook his head before he even looked at the book. "That's a hardback. The only hardback we have at all at home is one of that prat, Lockhart's."

"Nope," said Harry as he examined it, "I don't have any books by magical authors. And, I don't think I own any hardbacks either."

Hermione took it back, and mused silently. "Hmm," she said at last, "Then I'll just have to put up posters as I thought earlier. Hold up for a few seconds, guys."

She bent over and scribbled something down on a piece of paper. She muttered something under her breath as she furiously flicked her wand, and finally put a photocopying spell and picked up a pile of papers. "There. Come on, now. Let's go get that dessert and then put these posters up."

She heard Ron whisper, "Bloody mental, that one…" to Harry, but also picked up the undertone of awe in his voice. She bit back a smile.

* * *

><p>"Harry. We learnt the sticking spell early on in second year! You have to remember that! Or just use spello-tape." She glanced at his glasses in distaste, "Heavens knows you're skilled at it."<p>

Harry pushed his glasses up a bit further and grinned at Hermione. "Spello-tape it is, then! So much easier, too. Just a bit of levitation."

"And remember. It's Levi-O-sa…"

"… Not Levio-Sa" Ron chimed in. "We remember. Impossible to forget, isn't it?"

"Ron! You're supposed to have finished sticking all the fliers all through the left of the hall till the library!"

"Relax, Mione. I've done it, these are extra, and so I brought 'em here. Thought I'd lend my friend, Harry, a hand."

Hermione looked uncertain and told the boys to keep working here while she goes and checks. Ron put up an act of being thoroughly affronted, but he told her to go and not worry about them. Well, he did put them up, Hermione noted gingerly, but the whole thing was so sloppily done. That's what happens, she thought, when you do something in hurry. She magicked the posters off and re-glued them – this time more neat and in a straight line. She especially put many around the library door, in case someone comes into the library in search for it. Then she took her own pile out from her bag and headed to the Dungeons. She rationalized that since it was in her cauldron, there's a chance it fell out of someone's bag during Potions. She intended to hand a pile to Professor Snape, and find out if by any chance the book was his.

She grew more and more afraid as she drew nearer to the classroom, because her mind replayed Snape's anger when he heard Sirius Black had escaped. Standing by the door, Hermione fought the (probably sane) desire to walk back, when she heard Snape's nasal voice. "What is it, Granger?"

She walked in with as much Gryffindor courage as she could muster and took a few deep breaths before she began. "Professor, I found this book," she took it out of her bag, "in one of my Potions cauldrons. Could it possibly be yours?"

Snape snatched the books from her hands and inspected it closely. She saw him tap the book with his wand, but he said no incantation. Finally, he handed it to her haughtily and said, "No, this book does not belong to me Ms. Granger. I suggest you show it to those absent-minded imbeciles you call your friends."

"I –uh." Hermione stuttered a bit before regaining her composure. "It isn't theirs, sir."

"Then, get out of my office. I have more important things to be doing than to tend to your stupid concerns." He caught her hands move involuntarily towards the fliers and he picked one up. He read out the poster with utmost contempt and glared at her. "You think I'm a house-elf, Granger? Do you think it's my duty to do as you bid?"

"N- No, sir."

"Then why on earth would you consider the possibility that I may want to help you distribute your little papers?"

"I wasn't… I didn't say you were, sir."

"Leave. Now!"

* * *

><p>Hermione was very disappointed with the lack of response to her fliers. She couldn't understand how someone was not going absolutely berserk over the fact that they had misplaced a book. Heavens knows how long that book's been with her. She sunk down into her chair in the Gryffindor Common Room and began to read it. She wasn't going to, initially, because she was afraid she might have to part with it before she was done – a nightmare in its own rights. However, with the disinterest surrounding this book, she decided she might as well begin to read. The first chapter was a little dull, but the promise of an exciting story to come was more than sufficient to encourage her to labour on. Hermione was never too interested in crime novels, but reading this she got a better look at Aurors. She was always intrigued by magical professions, having little knowledge on them. She hardly knew the different sectors Aurors could be divided into, it was very like their Muggle counterparts. Time and again, Hermione was forced to check her books for meanings of magical terms and advanced spells. This thrilled her: the prospect of learning something so deliciously foreign to her. In the first seven chapters alone, Hermione learnt of twenty-one different technical Auror terms; eighteen difficult spells of which three were Hexes, four were jinxes and the remaining eleven were defensive spells. She decided she would lend Harry the book as well as her list containing meanings of the technical magical terms. It was likely to help him in the future with any trouble he might fall into, especially with You-Know-Who. If Trelawney's predictions were correct – although Hermione greatly doubted the fact – there was a possibility that Harry may be in great need of defensive spells.<p>

"I heard you found a book."

"Ginny! You scared me for a second. Yeah, I did."

"Mind if I have a look?"

"No, go right on ahead."

"Hermione, I think you should show this to the Professors. What if no one's claiming the book because they want you to keep it?"

A dark shadow passed over Ginny's face and Hermione realized what she was thinking of: Riddle's Diary. She took Ginny's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I took it to Snape, purveyor of Darks Arts, he is. If something were wrong with it, he'd detect it straightaway. He seemed to deem the book meaningless."

Ginny looked unsure, but accepted the answer. "I suppose you're right, Hermione. It's just – I worry. I don't want anyone to face the fate I did."

Hermione smiled warmly in her direction and said, "I know, Gin. Don't worry, I got it. There's nothing special about this book except its unbelievable plotline – oh! The twists this story has taken! It's a pure thrill."

"Yeah? Dad has that book. Written by some friend of his at the Ministry. I'll tell Dad to let him know the brightest witch in Harry Potter's year thought the book was 'a pure thrill'."

Hermione laughed. "Speaking of Harry Potter, how's that little crush of yours?"

Ginny's face flushed a red akin to her hair. "Haven't spoken to him much this year. Barely seen him at all. I'm less of a prick around him though; I can actually carry out all bodily functions – which is an improvement."

Despite all her plans of finishing the book, returning it to its owner and visiting Professor McGonagall regarding her time-turner, Hermione spent the rest of the evening chatting with Ginny. It was the first time, possibly, since her advent to Hogwarts, full three years back that she actually had a long girl-to-girl conversation. Lavender and Parvati really weren't the sort of people she got along with. She needed someone who was able to keep up with her intellect and wit. In her first year, Ginny appeared to be very shy, quiet and did not have much to say. However, having spent the past three hours with her, Hermione realized just how brazen, bold and witty she really was. She seemed to a chip of Fred and George, expect much more sensible. She was, in essence, the perfect friend for Hermione.

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy had put off packing his trunk until the last possible moment because he was still recuperating from his failed attack on Granger. In fact, he was so focused on his revenge that he didn't notice his favourite book was missing. He skipped the Grand Feast because he didn't want to see Granger's face and moreover he didn't want to watch the room paint over in scarlet and gold again as they celebrated yet another Gryffindor win. When he left in the morning after breakfast, he vaguely noticed the posters his current nemesis put up but paid no attention. He thought his book was safely stowed away in his trunk. He couldn't be bothered to unpack all over again and check. So, as he walked out of King's Cross station later that day, he was completely oblivious to the fact that his favourite book was in Granger's possession.<p>

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><p><strong>AN: **So, it's becoming more un-canon, there's a new link between Draco and Hermione and it's the advent of Fourth Year. Who's excited?

Speaking of excited. Who's excited for Pottermore? Who has early acceptance? [I do! :D]


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